


The Brightest Lights

by fairgraves



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Swearing, non-cult AU, sort of enemies to lovers?, wildly cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 17:49:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17146286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairgraves/pseuds/fairgraves
Summary: Jacob lived in the second from last condo on the right. One of the Fowler brothers – he never did commit to memory the man’s first name – lived to his left, and was a decent enough neighbor in that he never interacted with him in the least, but his neighbor to the right, in the end unit?A fucking nightmare.She had moved to Hope County in the early fall from god knows where – hell, probably – and had been a thorn in his side ever since.Christmas Fluff/Non-Cult AU





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WeekendWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeekendWriter/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, WeekendWriter!!! I hope you like this at least a little!

When Jacob and his brother’s had moved to Hope County seven years ago, they had convinced him to move into a condo. _You should live around people_ , they had said, when he had announced his intention to purchase a cabin in the woods. _Don’t isolate yourself_.

Well, Jacob’s brothers were known fools, but maybe he was too for actually taking their advice.

Jacob lived in the second from last condo on the right. One of the Fowler brothers – he never did commit to memory the man’s first name – lived to his left, and was a decent enough neighbor in that he never interacted with him in the least, but his neighbor to the right, in the end unit?

A fucking nightmare.

She had moved to Hope County in the early fall from god knows where – hell, probably – and had been a thorn in his side ever since. Whenever he needed to do something, there she was. If he wanted to sit on his porch out back and relax with a beer, she was on the back lawn making a fire pit big enough to see from space with a friend who owned a flamethrower. If he wanted to listen to his music in the comfort of his own home, her music was on and drowned out his. Hell, if he even leaves for work in the morning, her dog Boomer has already been through digging discreet holes in his lawn. For a man who spent a considerable amount of his life as a sniper in the army with a duty was to spot a target hundreds of meters away, he sure hadn’t been able to spot Boomer’s surprises until it was too late. Jacob has twisted his ankle not once, but twice now. 

When he sees her in person, she’s perfectly amiable and quiet, but with a strong laugh that’s infectious and a curious nature. (She almost always asked what he was reading after she saw him with a book on evolutionary theory once.) Sometimes he’ll see her at the gun range too and ask him how he did. He’s pretty sure she was asking because she wants to see if she did better, but he doesn’t hold _that_ against her. And while he would never admit to it in the light of day, if he’s being honest, she’s the kind of attractive that makes him feel wildly inadequate whenever he’s near her.

Just the thought of her, good or bad, needled at him, so when he heard her knocking on his front door, he groaned. _What does she want?_

He opened the door and greeted her with a terse, “Rook.”

She’s a flurry of activity, smoothing her hair out of her face, smiling up at him and greeting him breathlessly like she ran a mile before she got to his door. “Hi Jacob! How are you?”

She waited for his response dutifully although he can tell by the way she’s squirming in front of him that she’s just waiting until she can talk again. She didn’t knock on his door to ask him how he was. She wanted something.

“So listen, have you heard about the Hope County Decorating Contest?” 

Jacob had. Hope County was having a Christmas house decorating contest every year with the winner being decided by the town council. Mayor Minkler announced the winner and presented them with a prize of $500 and bragging rights. Every year Eli Palmer won it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to decorate our condos together? I’m going to make my condo the brightest Hope County’s ever seen! I need someone tall with a ladder – that’s where you come in – and we would both benefit if we won.” She paused for a minute to gauge his steely expression and realized it might be a harder sell than she thought. She was persistent though. “If we win, we could split the cash!”

The thing was, Jacob hated Christmas, had always hated Christmas, and especially now that he was older, hated it even more, if that were even possible. When they were children, the Seed boys had been taken from their family and placed in a horrible foster home right around Christmas-time. Ever since, the season had been a sore spot in his life. And it didn’t help that since then, as the Seeds grew, and recovered from their horrible childhoods, and they began to make families of their own, Jacob had stayed stagnant. Celebrating Christmas felt like a chore that forced him to deal with the possibility that he’d die alone.

But he couldn’t tell her all that, so he just told her no. “Don’t think I’m decorating this year for the holiday.” He immediately felt a twinge of regret when her shoulders fell, she averted her gaze, and a blush spread across her cheeks, so he finished with a lame _sorry_ and a shrug of his shoulders. 

She assured him that it was no big deal and hurried off, visibly deflated, and that nervous, breathless energy she came to him with, gone.


	2. II.

Jacob had thought she had changed her mind about decorating – or maybe even simply couldn’t do it on her own – because two days after their run-in her place was still undecorated. It was only when he returned home that night after work that he realized just how wrong he was. He turned into the condo parking lot after a long day at work and saw her, the flamethrower friend, and a guy in USA flag sweatpants hanging lights.

“Christ,” he muttered, in horrified awe.

“What is it?” John asked on the other end of the line.

Jacob looked at his phone like he was surprised he still had it in his hands. He doesn’t even remember what they had been talking about in the first place because the blinking lights dangling from the eaves of her condo are practically putting him in a trance.

“My neighbor… she decorated her condo.” He groaned, rubbing a palm down his face in frustration, “I need to move away from this girl.”

John barked out a laugh on the other end. “Who? Deputy Rook?”

“Yeah,” Jacob responded, as he watched flamethrower friend wrap garland around her porch railing, “She’s killing me. She plays her music too loud, her dog digs _fucking trenches_ in my lawn, and she laughs, John. I can hear that laugh, all the time. And now this.”

John was acquainted with Rook too from his interactions with her in the Hope County courthouse, so when he laughs, Jacob knows it’s a laugh that says, _better you than me_. Before he can continue though, John cuts his call short with, “Brother, I’ve got to go – Holly’s home.”

Jacob let out a weary sigh, got out of his Jeep, and trudged toward his front door. He hoped she would just ignore him, but of course she doesn’t. When she caught sight of him, she left her friends and approached him with a spring in her step. “Have you changed your mind yet, Jacob? I have some extra decorations, if you have.” She smiles hopefully, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

Jacob waved her away. “Nah, good luck though.” 

He got about three feet away from her before his boot sunk in a hole and he surged forward. He righted himself before he fell to the ground, but he could feel his cheeks burning anyway.   

“Are you alright, Jacob?” she called after him, her tone hollow with any real concern. He glanced back at her, his eyes narrowed in annoyance, and watched her smile back at him with a satisfied grin.

Jacob gritted his teeth and all but growled an equally false, “I’m fine.”

When Jacob reached his front door, he heard one of her friends laugh, “Damn, chica, he doesn’t like you much, huh?”

And then the other friend responded, “His loss, amigo.” ~~~~


	3. III.

She was nothing if not true to her word: she did indeed make her condo the brightest the town had ever seen. So bright in fact, that Jacob had trouble sleeping, which was a problem since he was already an insomniac. For nearly a week, he laid in bed glaring at the ceiling as her icicle lights flashed continuously throughout the night at him:

_…red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red…_

And as the colors strobed against his ceiling, he kept telling himself that it wasn’t much longer before the contest winner would be announced and then maybe he could get some sleep. But it wasn’t just the lights that were keeping him awake either; he was convinced she left the lights on overnight just to fuck with him for refusing to decorate with her. Even if the contest winner was being announced tomorrow, Christmas was still _two weeks away_. 

He couldn’t last two more weeks of this. He was hardly surviving after _four days_.

Jacob had already stormed out of dinner with his brothers once.

“Why don’t you put curtains up, Jacob? I have some I can loan you, if you’d like,” his brother Joseph had suggested two nights ago over dinner.

John had smiled wickedly, knowing that his brother’s pride would never go for putting curtains up when she could just turn off the lights. Jacob make a change to accommodate someone else? Impossible. “Now, that certainly is an idea…” John had said, wistfully. 

Jacob, sleep deprived and more surly than normal, stood in a fury. “Nonsense, Joe, what would your neighbors say if they had to see you practically naked all the time through your windows?”

“True,” John said, playing both sides like the evil little shit that he was, “You do enjoy walking around with your nipples exposed, Joseph.”

Jacob’s seven-year-old niece giggled. “Uncle John said ‘NIPPLES’ at the dinner table, Dad! NIPPLES!”

_…red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red…_

And then last night he had approached Rook in the parking lot with the intention of being an adult and just asking if she’d mind turning the lights off when she went to sleep. When she turned and asked, “Yes, Jacob?” with her eyebrows raised, and her voice a little sweeter than normal, he was positive she was delighted with what she was about to witness. So instead, just to spite her, he didn’t bother to ask her to turn the lights off at night at all, he said hello and kept walking towards his Jeep.

_…red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red…_

Jacob hit his fist against the mattress. This not sleeping thing was more unbearable than normal. If he could just do something to sleep tonight – that didn’t include letting her win this petty standoff – he’d be the better for it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. But what could he do?

_…red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red orange yellow green blue red…_

Then he got a horrible thought: What if the lights just turned off and no matter what she tried, they wouldn’t turn back on?

He blinked. _Am I really this awful?_ He searched for the answer on the ceiling, but nothing came to him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad as long as he switched them back on before she was up in the morning? Pulling a lightbulb from a strand would shut them off, but there was no reason he couldn’t replace it later.    

He got out of his bed faster than he thought possible and crossed his room to the window. He wasn’t completely sure if he’d be able to reach, but if he could just open his window, lean across to the eaves of her condo and grab the strand of lights, he could unscrew a bulb, plunge his room into darkness and sleep for his usual five hours before getting up at the crack of dawn and screwing the light back in. She’d be none the wiser and he wouldn’t have to grovel to get her to turn the lights off.

Except that’s not at all what happened.

He could reach the strand alright, but instead of unscrewing a single bulb, he fumbled in his sleepless haze and tugged, which set off an immediate chain reaction that he couldn’t correct. The lights closest to him plucked off from their cheap plastic fixtures, with the fixtures springing from the eaves’ grasp and flying into the dark. The lights jostled free the snow on the roof, and suddenly there was an avalanche of wet, heavy chunks of snow sliding to off the roof and falling to the ground. The impact of the snow knocked over her wooden Rudolph nestled in front of her living room window.

But that wasn’t even the worst part, because within seconds he heard it and froze: her plastic light up Santa began to skid across the shingled roof, teeter over the edge, and then plunge two stories down to land in a snow pile below.  

“Fucccccckkkkkkkk.”

His arm was still in the air when she stuck her head out her window to figure out what the hell had just happened. She saw Santa on the ground and then to Jacob’s horror, she turned and looked him straight in the eyes.

A spark of something glinted in her eyes when she connected him with the commotion, and in a lower tone than normal, she deadpanned, “You son of a bitch.” 

She disappeared from the window, flew across their shared yard and was banging on his front door so hard Jacob thought she might bust through it. He was already apologizing when he threw on the porch light and opened the door and she was already rapid-fire cursing him out. When the door was completely open there was a pause between them – so small that anyone couldn’t be blamed for missing it – and they surveyed each other curiously. Her makeup was absent, her hair was a disheveled mess, she had winter boots on with her sleep shorts, and it was easy to tell that she was equal parts furious _and_ disgusted with him. And somewhere, deep down, it clicked: he was into her.

_God,_ he thought _, I must be tired_.

She snapped out of her pause quicker than he did and started with, “Why would you do this, Jacob? Do you really hate me that much?!”

Jacob didn’t hate her at all, and told her as much, but he was a loss for words to explain himself. He was too proud to let her “win” and too proud to tell her he was too proud. _Christ_. He felt, for the first time in a long time, genuinely ashamed of himself.

“I didn’t me—" 

She interjected, just as angry that he’d even try to talk when she was yelling at him. “Oh, you didn’t _mean to_? What does that even mean, you didn’t _mean to_? How could you mean to do anything but?”

Jacob stammered some more. “I – I never meant to pull them down, it just sort of happened? I meant to unscrew just a bulb –“

Her narrowed eyes widened at his confession and she hissed, “Why? Why would you do that to me?”

“I just – I needed some _sleep_.” The way he said sleep – a mix of desperation, resignation, and pure exhaustion – drew the word out and he gestured wildly at her. “Don’t tell me you didn’t leave those lights on just to spite me!”

Rook rocked back on the balls of her feet, indignant and haughty. “Oh, grow up, Jacob Seed! Like I’d bother! Are you too good that you can’t ask for me to turn them off? Or hell, are you too good to put up some goddamned curtains? What kind of a _weirdo_ lives in a place as long as you have and doesn’t put up curtains?!?!”

Well, she was right. He _should_ have put some curtains up. He saw that _now_ , but his anger for her was rising too.

They devolved into a screaming match once more, until she jabbed a finger into his bare chest and bellowed, “I ought to punch you in your stupid nose.”

He snatched her finger in his grip, lightning-quick, and leaned forward, towering over her. “Well, if you think you can reach?”

Jacob grinned viciously when she let out a loud, frustrated exhalation of air. He loved getting the last word. So rarely did he get this kind of satisfaction.

And then there was that pause again, this time longer, with more glowering and heavy breathing on her part. He was so close to her that he could smell her minty toothpaste. So close that he could…

Lights flickered on and his neighbor stuck his head out the door. “Hey, guys, it’s one AM – keep it down out here!”

Jacob yelled, “Get back inside, Fowler!”

And Rook yelled, “FUCK OFF, DAVE! GO PLAY WITH YOUR COLLECTIBLES!”

“HEY!” Dave yelled out, offended, “UNCALLED FOR!” And then he disappeared into his house, slamming the door behind him.

When she turned back to Jacob, her eyes were brimming with tears. He was confused with the switch, searching her face for an answer. Whatever anger she had for him had given way to something he was wholly unprepared to deal with. Tears. He stood back from her like she was toxic. 

“I just wanted to have one thing, you know, Jacob? This time of year is tough for me. Everyone has something to look forward to. I just had this and now...” She shrugged and brushed away a tear with the palm of her hand, “Anyway, forget it. I won’t bother you anymore.”

She turned on her heel to wander home, ignoring the apologies he was calling after her from his porch.


	4. IV.

To say he was miserable would be an understatement. He was exhausted, sure, not having slept for anything but an hour after their fight, but more than that, he felt horrible for what he had done. He didn’t think he could feel worse until he saw the disaster he had caused in the light of day. She had already left for work by the time he was headed out so he didn’t have to see her ( _thank God_ ), but he did catch sight of Santa dented and face down in the snow with the lights scattered around the plastic figure like it was a crime scene.

He called his boss and let him know he wouldn’t be into work. And then he called John told him what he had done. John had disappointed enough women in his life, surely he had a suggestion on how to apologize? _Grand gestures_ , he said, as if Jacob had any clue what the fuck that meant.

Between fits of laughter he told Jacob to meet him at the local superstore. 

When they met up, John explained. “If you’re going to make this right, you have to redecorate her house for her.” Jacob groaned, and John continued while he guided him to the Christmas aisles, “Since you destroyed her display, you’re going to have to buy all _new_ decorations and you better fucking win or she’ll never forgive you.”

Jacob pushed while John piled lights, large plastic candy canes, tinsel garland, and really anything Christmas-related he could get his tattooed hands on, into the cart. Careening down the two Christmas dedicated aisles and loading the wares in took less than ten minutes total, but standing in line took forever; kids screaming, people crowding, and the frustrated groans when “PRICE CHECK!” was yelled out above the din. It all was enough to kill anyone’s strength of will, but Jacob held on.

Both men felt out of place here: Jacob because he hated people and crowds in general, and John because well, he hated _these_ people and _this_ crowd. John mused darkly as they arrived at the cashier’s counter, “All these people… makes you wish for an apocalypse, doesn’t it?” 

John smiled at the female cashier with more teeth than was necessary. Jacob nodded in agreement.

The cashier smiled weakly. “I guess?”

 

* * *

 

It took about 4 hours for Jacob to decorate her condo – front and back so she’d be sure to win – stringing lights back up in the eaves, jamming the candy canes down in the frozen earth in a path to her front door, righting the wooden reindeer the snow had taken out last night, plugging in the new light up snowman on her lawn, hanging a wreath on her door, and throwing net lighting over her shrubs. The piece that would win her the prize though was the brand-new Santa he had bought, complete with a sleigh and all nine of Santa’s reindeer.

Jacob placed the Santa display on her roof (which was pretty difficult to do since John had abandoned him an hour earlier in favor of lunch, leaving him to carry up the entire set alone), and when that was finally done, he went inside, ate two sandwiches for a late lunch, and then passed out on the couch.

When he woke up, it was dark out – no lights on at her house inside or out. His heart dropped at the thought that she was mad at him still, even after he tried to make it right. His _grand gesture_ or whatever the fuck John had called it didn’t even work. _Figures_.  


	5. V.

“Did you apologize?” Joseph asked, pointedly, over their weekly dinner.

Jacob frowned into his mashed potatoes and sighed. “Of course, I apologized. She said, ‘Okay, thanks,’ and then walked away. She’s avoided me ever since.”

John waved his hand like it was no big deal. “Just get her some flowers and apologize again.”

He looked across the table at his little brother and seethed. “Your first plan didn’t work and your second one won’t either. She hates flowers. Allergic to ‘em.” Jacob thought back to the week she moved in when he saw her in her garden digging up the lilies while she sneezed and sneezed and sneezed.

If only he could figure out what she did like… 

John straightened up, frowning. “God, she’s a fucking mystery.”

“Dad!” Jacob’s niece, at an age where tattling was akin to thrill of eating candy, cried out, “Uncle John said ‘FUCK’ at the dinner table!”

Jacob’s mind was a million miles away though. He thought back to all the times he met her at the gun range and she asked how he did; when she had smiled as he tripped in his yard after he had rejected her offer to decorate his place; when she had kept the lights on all night long just to see if he’d stoop so low as to ask her to turn them off.

 _She likes to win_.

He had thought winning the house decorating contest would be enough to make her happy and forgive him, but her share of the money could be spent and she’d have nothing physical to show for her triumph.

She needed _a trophy_.   

The looks he was given when he ordered a trophy at Hope County Awards and Engravings after dinner with a little golden Santa on top holding up one finger were priceless. When he asked them to engrave a message to Rook they looked suspicious. And when he left after ordering it, he felt relieved.

Maybe, if he was lucky, this would work.


	6. VI.

Jacob waited up on Christmas Eve for a long time in the hopes that she’d come and see him, but he realized by 11:30 that he was a fool to hope that she would. He had left her present, wrapped (a precise, but disaster of a job) on her doorstep while she was at work earlier in the day, knowing full well that she probably didn’t want to see him today, of all days, and he didn’t want to make her feel obligated to see his face at all ever again. Lord knows she had been avoiding him for an entire week now.

But he was disappointed because he missed seeing _her_ face. 

He was just about to get off the couch and go to bed when there was a knock on the door. He froze. And then another knock.

Jacob opened his front door and there she was: pacing his porch with the trophy in her hand. When he showed himself at the threshold, she stopped pacing. She had tears in her eyes again.

 _Uh oh_.

Jacob greeted her. “Rook?” It sounded far more hopeful than he was.

She held up the trophy. “Did you have this made for me, Jacob?” Her voice was wobbly as she read the engraving, “’To the woman with the brightest lights in all of Hope County: Number 1 House Decorator of the Year, 2018.’”  

She looked back up at him, expectantly, eyes wide and bright.  

“I did,” he admitted, simply.

She looked away from him for a moment and then back. “This is the most –“ she sobbed out, “stupidly romantic gift that I’ve ever been given.”

Jacob rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You love to win, so…”

Unexpectedly, she surged forward and pulled him down by his t-shirt to kiss him. It was a kiss a person could get swept up in when they hadn’t had affection in a while and _needed_ it without _knowing_ it and before he could make sense of what was happening, he was tugging her closer and wrapping his arms around her, one hand resting on the back of her head with his fingers tangled in her hair, and the other hand at the small of her back, holding her firmly in place. He could feel the weight of the trophy against his back. They stayed like that on the porch, kissing, for a long while until she pulled away suddenly and smiled.

“Merry Christmas, Jacob.”


End file.
